The Presence
by audny-the-albatross
Summary: Kel is frequented by a mysterious evil thing noun escapes me at moment... Currently not being updated bc of writer's block. If you have suggestions, please review.
1. Prologue

It came again, night after night. If she was asleep, she would awaken and lie there, in the black, frozen. The night sky was always smothered in clouds; the candles left burning after the fourth recurrence always burnt out; the black always impenetrable, suffocating. The windows were somehow open; there was not a sound, not a movement, inside or out. And yet she knew it was there.  
She dared not move, dared not breathe. Though it had been warm out when she fell asleep, and would be again when she awoke, no doubt-it being the middle of summer-the air was suddenly chill, of a sudden full of dread, of anguish, or fear.  
It was there. Its presence ate at her, froze her and peeled scraps of her away like dead skin, leaving her raw and vulnerable. She never felt it come-it was just there of a sudden, and felt as though it had always been and would always be, even though she knew it had not. And then a chill breeze swept through the chamber, full of despair and sorrow, and the presence was gone.  
She never felt the warmth return, for she had already fallen back into slumber. In the morning, and during the day, she did not remember, or remembered it but a dream, a recurring nightmare, but nothing to fear; she'd had them before. Yet at night, alone and sick at heart, she knew they were no dreams. They were real; and clawed at her soul, stole at her reason, her courage, her sanity. Every night, she fought it with all her will, all her might. But it was like fighting an uphill battle. And she was losing. She knew it; at night she knew, but by day forgot.  
Her days passed as they always had, with two exceptions; she was prone to short, sudden bursts of melancholy and loneliness, and rarely spent time with her friends. Her days were spent practicing combat, riding, or in the library, reading. 


	2. In which Neal contracts magical leprosy

She was in the middle of a book on leprosy when Neal strode in. He grabbed a book and looked around the room for a place to sit. Spotting Kel, he hurried over.  
"Hi, Kel," he greeted her as he sat down.  
"Hello," she replied without looking up.  
"What are you reading?"  
She help the book up to show him.  
"Leprosy?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "You must be bored."  
She returned her attention to the book in question. "Well, I'm not."  
"Come on, Kel. You would never read something like this otherwise."  
"Neal, could you just leave me alone? I'm trying to read."  
"And yesterday you were out riding alone because you were 'thinking', as well as the day before that." He paused. "Why are you avoiding me and the others?"  
"I'm not avoiding you, Neal, or the others."  
"What do you call it, then? You never have time for your friends anymore." You're always busy, and whenever we try to talk to you, you cut us off."  
Kel sighed. "I call it 'not having time'."  
"Right. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't have time for your friends because you're reading some book about a subject you don't even care about?"  
She stood and threw the book down on the table. "Obviously I can't get anything done," she snapped, and stalked out of the room.  
Neal picked the book up and opened it to a random page. He began to read, and visions swam before his eyes, growing more and more real.  
  
There were screams all around him; screams of the wounded, the dying, the afraid; there were flashes of metal, flame, and blood; there was the scent of burning flesh and wood, of blood. He stumbled away from the town center, away from the madness, from the men on horses, from the fire, from the death and carnage, knowing even as he did so that he would not make it. A man on horseback cut down the woman in front of him, then turned and raised the sword against him. It flashed in the sunlight as he lifted his decaying arms to ward off the attack.  
  
The book fell to the floor as Neal raised his arms. A blow slammed into them; he stumbled backwards to the chair and collapsed. Shaking, he realized that, as in the vision, he had stood and walked forward, had raised his arms.  
His arms! He turned his hands over and was relieved to see they were still healthy, still whole, unharmed but for the spreading bruise and crusted blood where the sword had slammed into him. The blood was not his own, for at no point had the blow broken skin. Still in shock, still trembling, he began to weep.  
Halfway across the room Lord Wyldon looked up from his own book. He had done so first when Kel had slammed her down, then again as Neal dropped it, and now as he heard the sobs of a grown man. Frowning, he set his own book down and walked over to the wailing knight.  
"Is something the matter, Queenscove?" he asked sternly.  
Still convulsing, Neal looked at Wyldon and mutely held up his wrists, then let them fall. His head turned back to his lap and he continued to cry.  
The wrists had surprised Wyldon, and he was even more shocked to see the bottom of Neal's breeches torn, his boots missing.  
"Look at me, Queenscove. What happened?"  
Neal turned back to Wyldon, who felt a chill spread down his spine. Those were not his eyes!  
Neal muttered, "The book." He was barely intelligible.  
Wyldon picked the book up and opened it. There was nothing but words; the chapter was titled The Symptoms. He perused the pages, then looked at the next pages. The same.  
He shut the book and snapped at Neal, "What do you mean by this?"  
"It. I was. my arms."  
Neal had momentarily lost his sanity. Wyldon set the book down and ordered Neal to get up. When he told him to go see Duke Baird, the knight just looked at him dumbly. Exasperated, he snapped, "Follow me, Queenscove." He strode out of the room and led him to the healer's ward. 


	3. The disease becomes known

Kel returned to her room early that night. After her argument with Neal in the morning-which, she realized on her way back to her room, had been more of an argument on her part, and typical Neal on his-she had gone out riding Peachblossom. Her mood had lifted in the ride, and as she unlocked her door, she felt it plummet. For a moment, she stood there, confused as to why, then remembered the nightmares and shook her head. Such fear was foolish. After all, they were only dreams.  
She entered the room and felt a small breeze blow through her open window. Frowning, she went over and closed it, then looked around her room carefully. Underneath one of the candles was a note. She reached over and read it.  
  
Regret  
  
The words began to grow of a sudden, the ink spreading and covering the sheet-and then faded away, as though being leached out of the page. When the sheet was dry again, there was another message on the note, written in a shaking hand.  
  
Something has happened Neal-he won't respond. Lord Wyldon  
brought him in to me and said you were talking to him just  
before he started acting like this. Please come; I need you to  
answer some questions.  
-Duke Baird  
  
The words grew and shrunk again, and this time left the word remorse. Shaking her head, for some reason calm, Kel pocketed the note and headed to the healers.  
When she arrived, Duke Baird was sitting next to his sleeping son. There was no one else in the room. He looked up when she entered.  
"Keladry. Lord Wyldon said you spoke with Neal in the library this morning?"  
Her face remained emotionless as she told him, "It wasn't really speaking. Neal was asking me why I don't spend time with him or my other friends any more, and I wasn't receiving his comments very well."  
"You were being argumentative?"  
"Yes."  
"Did you talk about anything else?"  
"He tried to initiate a conversation when he first entered. He asked what I was reading. I snapped at him."  
"What were you reading? Did you discuss it at all?"  
"I was reading about leprosy, and no, we didn't really discuss it. He remarked that I must be bored, and I told him I was busy. That's when he asked me why I never spend time with my friends anymore."  
"Leprosy." he murmured. "Interesting. I wish it helped." He sighed, and looked back at Neal. "I should warn you that he doesn't recognize me. He's answered to his name with 'Are you speaking to me?' His speech is slurred, he doesn't recognize this ward, and there's something wrong with eyes."  
Kel jolted. "What?"  
"Stay until he wakes and I'll show you." Next to Baird, Neal stirred. "It seems as though you might not have long to wait," he remarked. "Was there anything else I should ask you about?" He paused, thinking, then sighed again. "There was. Lord Wyldon heard him crying and went over to find out what was going on. His breeches were torn, his boots missing, and his wrists were crusted in blood."  
Kel shook her head as she struggled to keep her Yamani mask in place. "Has he mentioned anyone's name? Or anything at all?"  
Baird nodded. "Not anyone's name, but he has talked about his arms quite a bit. He's never able to tell us anything about them-but for some reason, it surprises him that they're whole. Once he said, 'The black is gone.' Might this have anything to do with leprosy?" He sighed. "I'm afraid I don't know much about leprosy. It hasn't ever been found in Tortall, nor Scanra, nor Tusaine, Galla, or Tyra. It's only found in the Copper Isles in small villages and in southern Carthak. But as you've been reading about it, could you tell me what you know?"  
Kel shook her head. "I'm afraid what I know is too little to be of any help. All I know thus far is that you limbs decay while you live, that it is a progressive illness, and that there is no cure." Worried, she asked, "You don't think Neal has it?"  
"There is a lesion on his arm that should not be there. I don't know if it is a precursor or not, but as Neal's condition was acquired so suddenly." He trailed off. "You read nothing of lesions being precursors to leprosy?"  
"I hadn't read very far."  
"So it would seem." He reached into his pocket and brought out a note. "I suppose I'll have to ask Numair his opinion on the matter. Would you deliver this to him?"  
Kel nodded as Neal opened his eyes. "Where am I?" he muttered. His voice was indeed slurred.  
He noticed her, and turned his head in her direction. Kel felt a jolt in her spine. Those really weren't his eyes.  
Softly, she asked, "Do you know who I am?"  
He shook his head. "You look familiar, though."  
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she asked, "What do you remember?"  
He frowned. His brow furrowed in thought as he replied, "I remember a town. There was fire and blood and men on horses, and they were attacking us. People all around me were dying. I ran away, and then a man swung a sword at me. And then I was in a big room and a man was talking to me."  
"Do you know the man's name?" asked Neal's father urgently.  
"No."  
"Do you know your own name?"  
The knight frowned. "I don't have one."  
"You do have one. You've had one all your life," Baird said. "Can you remember it? Do you remember any name, at all?"  
Neal contemplated the thought. Finally, he shook his head. "No."  
"Your name is Nealan of Queenscove," Kel told him quietly. "This man is your father."  
He frowned again. "I haven't got a father."  
"You had to come from somewhere," Kel told him quietly, unsettled. "This man is your father. He looks familiar, doesn't he?"  
Neal nodded and closed his eyes.  
"Do you wish to sleep now?" asked Duke Baird gently.  
Neal nodded again. Duke Baird rose and walked into the waiting room with Kel.  
"I don't know how to handle this," Baird told her. "It would be different were he just another patient-"  
"I know. I'll take your note to Numair; maybe he is the one to heal Neal." She took a deep breath. "I hope-I hope he gets better quickly. Thank you for alerting me."  
"Thank you for answering my questions."  
Kel turned to leave, then stopped. "Sir?"  
"Yes, Keladry?"  
"Sir. did you spell the note you sent me?"  
"What?"  
"Did you put a spell on the note you sent me about Neal?"  
"No. it was spelled?"  
"When I first read it, it said 'regret'. Then the ink bled to cover the whole paper, then shrunk to your message. Then it bled and shrunk again and said 'remorse'. And then it vanished."  
"I assure you I did not spell the note. I have no idea what happened. Is something the matter?"  
Kel felt It, a small shred of It, a thin wisp of air; but it was there all the same. It was responsible, she knew then. It had been responsible for the words.  
But why? she thought as the presence vanished. It was no more than a nightmare, or a daymare, as it seemed. It was not real; it could not be.  
She shook her head. "I am fine, sir."  
"You are certain?"  
She nodded. "You should see to Neal. I'll deliver your message."  
"My thanks, Keladry." He turned and strode back to his son. Kel turned and left the room.  
It was there in the halls, the smallest hint of it, just a sudden cold draft by her feet. Ignoring the discomfort, she headed towards the rooms kept by Daine and Numair, wondering about the note every step of the way. 


	4. NOTICE

B/c my computer *frizzled* and completely died, and b/c my Dad is lazy, I lost all my files.  I had everything (the next couple of chapters) all typed up and printed out, but I'm lazy and I'm not getting things retyped very quickly.  Please bear with me.

Thanks,

Audny the Albatross


End file.
